


From Hell, Into Hell

by MilitaryPenguin



Category: Kaiji
Genre: Bloodplay, Cutting, Knives, M/M, Sadism, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:57:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilitaryPenguin/pseuds/MilitaryPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Come now, Kaiji-kun. What else would I want to do first but visit the man who ruined my life so that I could return the favor?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Hell, Into Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following request:   
> "IchijouxKaiji  
> Knives and thigh highs   
> make it sadistic and insane as fuck"

When he awoke he saw nothing but darkness surrounding him. His back was painfully stiff from the chair he was bound to; his wrists were tied behind him and his legs were tied to the two front legs of the chair. Kaiji’s heart raced—he couldn’t remember just what he was doing before, much less how he could have gotten here. The only thing he could think of was that he was kidnapped. What was going to happen to him now? He shivered both at the coolness of the pitch black room and at his fate, now as unforeseeable as the room itself.

A door creaked open and a pair of footsteps followed. Kaiji’s eyes stung and blinked as the light from a lamp hanging over him was clicked on, then they widened in disbelief at the sight before him.

“I-Ichijou?!” he croaked, “How the hell did you get out…?”

The redheaded man snickered. “I think you should be more concerned about how you will get out of here, Kaiji-kun.”

Kaiji had nothing to retaliate with. After the shock of Ichijou’s re-appearance dulled, it finally dawned on him that something was different about the man’s appearance.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Oh, these?” Ichijou said, running his hand over one of his legs clothed in what appeared to be a long black stocking that ran up to his thigh, “They’re awfully comfortable. But more importantly, they’re useful for hiding tools like these.”

Ichijou pulled out an object from the top of his stocking, causing Kaiji to recoil in terror.

“Y-you’re not going to use that again on me, are you?”

Ichijou shook his head, laughing. “As wonderfully clean and efficient that was, I, unfortunately, no longer have access to it. But I can easily improvise with this.”

He advanced towards Kaiji and crouched down at his level. A wide maniacal grin spread on his face as he waved the object—a sheathed knife—in front of him. Kaiji knew he had to stall him, and fast. How he could be rescued from this…he had no idea, but his life was on the line and stalling Ichijou was his only option to extend his lifespan.

“Why are you doing this, anyway? I’d have thought you’d want to enjoy your freedom.”

“Come now, Kaiji-kun. What else would I want to do first but visit the man who ruined my life so that I could return the favor?”

In all his terror, Kaiji couldn’t suppress a snarky reply. “Heh, is that so? I’m touched you wanted to see me that badly.”

Ichijou’s face slightly contorted in anger (Oh shit, I didn’t mean to get him angry, thought Kaiji, panicked) but quickly settled back into a smirk. He stood up and walked around to the back of the chair.

Quick! Think of something else! “You never did tell me how you got yourself out of Hell.”

“I climbed out. Is that satisfactory enough for you? You could stand to make your attempts at stalling me less obvious, Kaiji-kun. Hmm…” Kaiji squirmed as he felt Ichijou’s elegant, slightly callused—from labor, no doubt—fingers inspecting his own. “Looks like you haven’t dyed your nails in a while. A shame, it really was a lovely color on you.” The sound of a blade unsheathing. Oh god. “I suppose we’ll have to do it again.”

Kaiji’s heart sank and his stomach clenched. “No…Ichijou, don’t…!”

Of course, Ichijou didn’t listen, as the point of the knife began to pick under his thumbnail. Kaiji thrashed about in his chair before the knife could do any serious damage.

“Calm down, Kaiji-kun, or you’ll only make it worse—” The knife sank into the flesh under his nail, then cracked as a result of Kaiji’s violent squirms, eliciting a scream from him, “—oh. Guess the rest of it will have to go too.”

Tears began to take formation in Kaiji’s eyes. “NO! Goddammit, stop!”

“No, I think I’ll take that burden of a broken nail off your shoulders.”

The knife tore at his skin and pulled upward at the cracked nail. It was a pain that the one the horrible device Ichijou subjected him to long ago couldn’t compare—the fact that his hands were out of sight made the pain he couldn’t see all the more intense. When the nail was finally cut out Kaiji’s head fell down to his chest and he wept uncontrollably.

“Nostalgic, isn’t it?” said Ichijou, “Just what I needed…you know, that memory of you squirming during our first time was what helped me sleep soundly while I was down in that miserable hellhole.”

Kaiji felt sick. The way he was referring that time he tortured him as “our first time” made it sound like some perverse date. His only comfort in knowing that it wasn’t like that was the fact that Ichijou hated him with a passion.

The knife continued to pick open his fingernails, Ichijou justifying each crack with a mocking “My mistake” as Kaiji sat there, twitching and whimpering. White-hot pricks of pain jolting through each finger. Now-exposed skin stinging and throbbing and bleeding. At last, the final fingernail was cut off and fell to the floor amongst the other fingernails sitting a pool of blood.

“…a…are…are you going to release me now?” choked Kaiji.

Ichijou wiped the bloodied blade on Kaiji’s pants. “No, I think I’ll keep you. There’s still much more we can do.”

“What the fuck else can we do?!”

“Didn’t I tell you I’d improvise? Have some patience, Kaiji-kun.”

Stop talking to me like I’m a goddamn masochist, he wanted to say. His train of thought quickly changed course, however, when the knife slid down the collar of his shirt and tore it down the middle. Goosebumps sprung all over Kaiji’s flesh as he felt Ichijou running a hand down his chest and abdomen.

“Still as scrawny as ever,” Ichijou sighed disapprovingly, “Even after you won the jackpot. Such a waste, though entirely expected of an unemployed lowlife.”

Kaiji gave a short laugh. “And taking out your anger on me first thing after you get your freedom back is just the sort of thing I’d expect from a sore loser.”

A sharp, stinging pain cut across his bare chest, causing Kaiji to let out a startled yelp. Several angry slashes followed, cutting all over Kaiji’s chest and stomach. When it seemed he was done venting his fury on him, Ichijou took a seat in Kaiji’s lap, running a hand up and down his wounds, painting his chest and belly with blood.

“It’s a very nice color on you,” said Ichijou, “You’re a lucky man, Kaiji-kun. You’ll get some lovely scars to remember me by. Something to add to your growing collection.”

Kaiji growled behind gritted teeth, Ichijou chuckling in response. He then wiped the blood of the knife off on his pants, then used the knife to tear at his pants, which he pulled down to his ankles. His underwear followed in being torn off. Kaiji felt if his heart beat any faster it’d surely burst out of his chest. What was he planning on doing now, castrate him? He certainly wouldn’t put it past Ichijou, whose hatred of him seemed so passionate at this point he was willing to keep him alive just to inflict every kind of torture imaginable on him.

“Wh-what the hell are you doing now?!”

Ichijou pulled a tube from his other stocking and pulled his shorts and underwear down. He squirt whatever white substance was in the tube and proceeded to cover his dick in it.

“I thought you hated me,” said Kaiji, glaring, “Or were none of your lackeys around and you got desperate?”

Ichijou yanked at Kaiji’s hair so they were face to face. Kaiji could see him wrestling with a storm of rage in his eyes.

“Listen here, you fucking brat,” the ex-manager hissed, “This is going to be unpleasant for me, but I’m going to make sure it’s especially unpleasant for you. And just knowing that is enough for me to overcome any disgust I’ll have for fucking a piece of dirt off the street.”

He sharply thrusted himself inside Kaiji while also grabbing Kaiji’s dick. A burning, stinging sensation traveled up and down his dick as Ichijou pumped his hand—still stained and rusted with Kaiji’s own blood—up and down it. Ichijou’s knife was now digging into his bare thigh. Kaiji yelled and wriggled about in his seat, conflicting feelings of pain and pleasure rapidly circling about him. All he could do was cry and curse in between moans.

Ichijou climaxed quickly but refused to let up on Kaiji’s dick. After he’d finished panting, he moved his from his spot on Kaiji’s lap (the knife clattered to the floor) to crouch down on the floor—no doubt so he wouldn’t get any of Kaiji’s fluids all over his clothes—and then resumed pumping, his pace quickening increasingly. At last, Kaiji came, an unpleasant mix of blood, semen, and sweat flowing into his nostrils.

Ichijou took a handkerchief out of his front pocket and cleaned himself up, pulling his shorts back up and throwing the dirtied handkerchief on Kaiji. He turned and walked away.

“No…Ichijou, you aren’t just going to leave me here, are you?”

Ichijou replied only with a laugh as he turned off the light and closed the door behind him.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” sobbed Kaiji angrily, “I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL…”

He shivered even harder than he first awoke, now stripped of any warmth, on top of various disgusting fluids covering and cooling his skin. He stung and ached. As he had no hope for escape or rescue, all he could do was hope for a peaceful death. Maybe he’d eventually bleed to death in his sleep.


End file.
